


New Side of You

by Tahlruil



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Getting Together, How Do I Tag, M/M, Murder Husbands in the making, POV Stiles Stilinski, Protective Peter, magic shenanigans, sort of pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 13:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17101574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: He wondered how much longer it would be before Peter regained his mind and could leave his shifted state. They had already been lost in the Preserve for almost four days. Well, he was lost. The wolf with him probably knew exactly where they were, but he wasn't leading Stiles anywhere close to actual civilization. Earlier they had come across an old campsite and the wolf had almost dislocated his shoulder while dragging him forcefully away. Maybe it was prudent since the place was crawling with Hunters, but still. There was no way every other human in the Preserve was trying to kill them.Probably.





	New Side of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wreck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wreck/gifts).



> Yay! Steter Secret Santa exchange! :D
> 
> Here is my gift for Wreck, which will probably end up becoming a series because everything I write seems to. :'D Plus I had to do it in bits and snatches at work, so it's shorter than I would have liked. Coming up with a title for this was also a bitch and a half, but it was super fun to write anyway!
> 
> Thanks for reading. <3

There was a muscled arm wrapped around his waist and warm breath against his neck. Stiles knew he should hate both things, should be furious at the man whose body was curled around his own. But the thing was... the thing was that the curve of Peter's body was entirely protective and the still-healing gashes he could see on one forearm had been earned defending him. Even though the man was (probably) asleep after a hard-won fight, any time Stiles started to squirm or panic, a clawed hand would stroke his stomach until he settled again. 

He wondered how much longer it would be before Peter regained his mind and could leave his shifted state. They had already been lost in the Preserve for almost four days. Well, he was lost. The wolf with him probably knew exactly where they were, but he wasn't leading Stiles anywhere close to actual civilization. Earlier they had come across an old campsite and the wolf had almost dislocated his shoulder while dragging him forcefully away. Maybe it was prudent since the place was crawling with Hunters, but still. There was no way every other human in the Preserve was trying to kill them.

Probably. And anyway how was the pack going to find them if they didn't stay in one spot and instead wandered deeper and deeper into the woods?

A rumbling noise started up in the chest pressed against his back, sending vibrations through him that were pretty damn pleasant. It was also a sound that instantly drained some of the tension from his shoulders. He'd heard it before, though never from Peter. Scott would do it for him when his panic attacks got too bad and Derek had used it once to comfort Cora. A cross between a growl and a purr, the noise relaxed him almost immediately. His instincts had always told him the noise was partly to soothe and partly to promise protection against outside threats.

It was and wasn't surprising that Peter was using it now.

The guy took pack seriously, more seriously than Scott most of the time. Even if he was on the fringes and even if he wielded sarcasm like a weapon against every member the older wolf was always there for the pack in his own annoying way. Peter was most willing to share things with him - _I've always liked you, Stiles_ \- and he was one of the only members who seemed to remember that he was only a squishy human. Most fights it was Peter who had his back. Sometimes it even felt like he was doing it for more than just to keep from getting kicked out of the pack due to Scott's gratitude.

But to have the guy basically purring at him just to make him feel better was still fucking surreal. Peter was a lot of things but kind wasn't one of them. He was ruthless, wickedly smart, and perpetually irritated by everyone around him... and that was when he was(mostly) sane.

Stiles had always had a plan prepared for what to do if the guy reverted to just his instincts. His murdery, insane instincts. He'd just always figured that if a spell or drug or whatever removed what little human conscience the man had managed to grow things would get real bloody real quick. So far he had around half a dozen plans, each with their own handful of backup measures. Stiles had always expected Peter's base instincts would make him a monster.

Instead he was doing everything he could to keep Stiles safe.

It was fucking weird.

"Stiles." The grunted word was the only one Peter had managed to recover so far. He was waiting for it to turn into a 'Pikachu' situation but so far the wolf only used it to gain his attention. This time his mouthed it against Stiles' neck in a gesture that was less creepy than it should have been, so his attention had definitely perked right up.

Not sure what the wolf wanted, he turned his head to look back at him. Only one blue eye was open, and it was squinted in what was probably supposed to be a glare. It came off as stupidly cute. He briefly had the urge to pinch the guy's cheeks, but even if Peter was taking care of him, Stiles was sure he would lose a finger or two if he actually gave in to the urge.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I should be asleep. We walked at least a thousand miles today." The other eye opened expressly so he could roll them both. It was little things like that that gave Stiles hope that he was slowly regaining his human awareness. "It was a lot of miles, zombie wolf. I think my blisters have blisters." Hairless brows furrowed in concern, and the hand on his stomach moved to his side before starting to slide downward.

He knew the guy probably only wanted to check and make sure he was okay, but holy shit. Inappropriately timed boners were still his curse even now that he was twenty. From the way Peter's nostrils had flared the wolf knew it too. If he could have talked he would have given Stiles shit about it, but werewolf-Peter didn't even blink, just sat up a little as he prepared to make sure he wasn’t hurt too badly. It was sweet, even if the firm press of his hand was sort of sending Stiles into a 'zombie wolf is not sexy you moron' crisis.

"Woah! Just an expression dude." The wolf's hand stopped as soon as his covered it. Peter had always seemed big on the idea of consent... at least where Stiles was concerned. "I'm fine." He didn't mean to run his fingers over the wounds on Peter's arm, didn't even know he was doing it until he felt the wolf shudder. "Thanks to you I'm fine. Though you probably shouldn't have stepped in front of that spell dude. I dunno what it would have done to me,” and from the growl the wolf gave the other man didn't want to find out. "But it probably would have been better than this. You can't even talk."

"Stiles."

"That is less impressive than you think it is. I'm just glad you're starting to understand what I'm saying. I was... I won't ever admit it again, but I was worried about you that first day, zombie wolf." He'd also scared the shit out of him at first, but it would be a slap in the wolf's face if he admitted that part. "You got us the fuck away from those hunters pretty quick, but then you were all growly and stuff and I'm pretty sure when I was talking all you heard was like, squawking or some shit, just like that lady in Charlie Brown. The teacher maybe? Whatever. You were deep in your wolfiness is what I mean dude. So I was worried."

Peter started up the rumbling again, arm going snug around his waist. He was also nosing Stiles' neck, and he really should be more concerned with how damn handsy the wolf was being. Even when they were walking he always had a hand on his lower back or arm. Unless he thought there was danger anyway, which was when he would shove Stiles behind him with a roar.

He'd killed six Hunters so far. Stiles should probably cut the guy some slack on his level of paranoia, because people were absolutely still after them.

"We have to go back to town sometime, you know. Scott and the others are clearly shit trackers," mostly because Peter was with him and Derek and Cora had gone on a sibling bonding road trip. "Because the Hunters keep finding us before they do. If we got the fuck out of here and went to them maybe we could figure out how to get rid of the problem. Permanently this time." He loved Scott, he did, but sometimes his goodness went too far and he strayed into 'walking doormat' territory, which was when shit always hit the fan. This particular family of Hunters had invaded their territory three times now, so they clearly needed to try something different than just talking to them.

Which meant _he_ needed the talking, ruthless, mostly sane version of Peter back. They were always the ones who figured out the counter-plan when Scott was blinded by his faith in other people. Maybe neither one of them had the title of Left Hand, but they filled the role all the same.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I kind of miss you. You-you. Not that you aren't you, because you are even if you're a you that's verging on being touchy-feely which is weird and you'll probably be mad at me about it later so you can pretend you're not mortified or whatever. So you're you but not you-you and I sort of need you-you to fix this mess. Also a phone, a new baseball bat and a shower before anything else because I have to be getting ripe. You are too. You-you would be horrified by the state of your hair and the way your evil goatee is morphing into a scraggly beard. Not that you don't still look good because you're a Hale and you all are stupid hot. Not that, uh, I think you're hot. Much. That is not the point though and now I'm kind of wishing you didn't understand me yet. Do you think--"

"Stiles." There was amusement in the wolf's voice now, and Stiles was pretty sure that was a smile he felt curved against the nape of his neck.

"Right. Shutting up to sleep now." Willing himself to think unsexy thoughts, he finally closed his eyes in a conscious effort to fall asleep. It was probably going to be pretty easy, even if he was a little uncomfortable and a little hungry. Peter was like a furnace at his back and a comforting weight draped around his middle. Nothing was going to hurt him, not unless it managed to kill the still ruthless, strong as fuck werewolf protecting him first.

So it probably wasn't surprising that he drifted off after only a few minutes, Peter's purr still sounding in his ears.

~.~.~

There was a warm hand resting on his stomach, skin meeting skin where his shirt had rucked up during the night. One large thumb was swiping over his hip bone and it was strange how reassuring it felt. Usually when he had this kind of dream it was more a prelude to sexy times rather than a grounding gesture, but the mind was a weird place. If it could make the whole thing feel this real, this crystal clear, than why couldn't it come up with a sweeter scenario?

He could have done without the smell though. For some reason his brain had decided he should be smelling BO and blood, which was sort of rude when he thought about it. The rest of it though - that warm hand, the body pressed tight against his back and the lips that were resting against his neck in a not-quite-kiss... those things were all kind of awesome. Also very real. Too real? He'd lucid dreamed before, and this didn't feel like that. His senses weren't heightened, his emotions weren't any more intense than usual... and when he willed that awesome hand to trek downward, it just... didn't.

Fuck.

"Good morning Stiles," Peter purred against his ear. His voice was more smug and suggestive than the steady, soothing rhythm of his thumb felt. And maybe he should have reacted to that, gotten angry and embarrassed. What he actually felt was intense relief, and he melted back into the wolf's hold. Peter was Peter again, assholish tendencies still in place. He was talking, his fingers didn't end in claws, and Stiles was way happier than he should have been that his wolf had come back to himself.

"Zombie wolf." Peter's hand flexed, maybe in surprise, before going still. He sort of missed that sweeping thumb. The man also felt tense, which was fucking stupid. "You're back."

"I never went anywhere, Stiles."

"Dude."

"Don't call me--"

"Maybe your body was here but you sure as hell weren't you."

"And you _missed_ me-me." That smug tone of voice was back, and his thumb had started to move again. He liked both things more than was probably sane, and he didn't even think before letting his own fingers find Peter's wounds again. They were better but still there - that last Hunter's knife must have been coated in fucking wolfsbane or something. If the wolf hadn't already ripped her apart he would be tempted to go after her himself.

"Yeah. Kinda did." Part of him knew that he should shove Peter away and then run as fast as he fucking could... but he ignored that because he was pretty comfy where he was. "So. Do you know what the fuck happened to you?"

"I have a theory."

"You want to share with the rest of the class?"

"No. But I suppose I can tell some of it to you. It was clearly the spell - every once in a while Hunters will put their distrust of all things supernatural aside to work with those who have magic. Healers and witches, mostly. After we drove them away the first two times they must have decided they needed an advantage."

"They probably did. Good thing you ripped her head off before you dragged me into the woods. Which, by the way, why the fuck?"

"I've no idea."

"Liar."

"Perhaps." Peter's hand stilled a moment, then moved just a little lower until his fingers dipped below the waistband of Stiles' jeans. A shiver went up his spine while butterflies took wing in his stomach. He'd always thought Peter was hot but he'd also known the guy was bad news. After the last few days he was starting to have second thoughts about that last part.

Oh, Peter was still dangerous and only mostly sane - a work in progress, he would call himself. But he'd been reduced to his most base, animalistic self and all he'd really been worried about was protecting Stiles. So maybe he couldn't trust the wolf with everything, because he would always be a manipulative shit who stirred the pot just to see what would happen... but he thought that maybe he could trust the werewolf with this - with him.

"Stiles darling... is there a reason you seem so willing to let me grope you in the forest instead of demanding we return to your precious Scott right this instant?"

"I'm way more worried about my dad, dude. He's probably going out of his mind worrying about me. And you aren't groping me, zombie wolf. How long has it been since you've gotten any to think this is groping?"

"I do just fine, thank you," was the scathing retort he got. He was pretty sure there was a hint of surprise and even insecurity in Peter's voice underneath that though. A second later the wolf's hand slipped lower and Stiles bit his lip to keep from rocking his hips into the touch. "You would let me though, wouldn't you? If I wanted to, if I asked... you would let me."

"... maybe."

To his surprise, Peter pulled his hand away and then carefully unwound his body to stand up. 

The surge of disappointment he felt was something he wouldn't have expected even a week ago. He was absolutely going to let himself have a 'I want Peter Hale to fuck me' crisis once they were back in civilization and the Hunters were sent packing. Or buried - at this point he was sort of leaning toward buried. He was pulled out of his daydreams of justified murder by Peter's hand returning, this time in front of his face.

"Do get up, won't you? I have a cabin near here that has running water and a phone. You can call your father and let him know--"

"Wait wait wait. You have a cabin? In the Preserve? How did I not know this?" He was fucking offended that he didn't, and also a little disappointed in himself. He had been so damn proud when he found Peter's apartment - besides Cora he was the only one who knew where the man actually lived. So to find out there was a secondary living space... how had he missed that?

"Sweetheart, I like you but that doesn't mean I want to give you all of my secrets. Not yet anyway. Maybe if you're very, very good."

He couldn't resist that, because he was also a little shit. As he grabbed Peter's hand he grinned up at the man, pleased to see the man smile back. "What if I'm very, very bad?" A spark of heat lit the wolf's eyes, and when he hauled Stiles to his feet he made sure they ended up chest to chest. He liked that he was a couple inches taller than the man, and he liked even more that Peter was bigger than him in every other way that mattered.

"In that case I believe we could still come to some kind of arrangement," he purred, close enough that his breath brushed over Stiles' lips. "You never stop surprising me Stiles. It's part of why you're my favorite." The man leaned in, and fuck did he want a kiss... but instead Peter nuzzled into his neck before running the flat of his tongue over the hollow of his throat. He threw his head back with a gasp, drawing a chuckle out of the wolf, whose hands went to Stiles' hips. "Mmm... I would love to take you apart right here, Stiles," he breathed hot against Stiles' skin. "Make you scream my name, make you beg me to give you what you need..."

The whine that escaped him should have been embarrassing; the way his knees had buckled a little definitely was. He hadn't known how much he wanted this, how much he wanted Peter... but now it was all he could think of. The wolf was right - Stiles would absolutely let the man touch him any way he wanted, though he'd demand that he get to touch Peter right back. Despite his reaction though, the wolf just gave his neck one more lick before pressing his lips to the shell of his ear.

"But I won't do that, not yet. Do you know why, darling boy?"

"Why?"

"Because you stink."

That startled a laugh out of him, though he paired it with a punch to the man's arm. "Ass."

"You do have a nice one," Peter allowed, hands snaking around to grab hold of it. He stifled another whine and managed to keep his hips still - it was a struggle though. "But we can explore that another time. You need to call your father, and then... then we have a hunt to start. I rather think these Hunters need to be taught a lesson, don't you?"

The notion of hunting down the people who had been hunting them shouldn't be the thing that turned him on even more... but his libido had always been kind of fucked up. Just then he couldn't think of anything better than causing a little mayhem with his wolf. Maybe it would lead to more…

And if it didn't, maybe he would drag Peter along with him to visit Maryanne in a few weeks. The healer had issued a standing invitation after they'd saved her from a wendigo, and he knew for a fact that she lived in a tiny house with only one extra room that held only one bed.

It'd be a great place to come to their new arrangement.

**Author's Note:**

> I did NOT know how to tag this even a little, so if anyone has any suggestions I will happily take them.


End file.
